Time
by erbsen
Summary: Set from waaaay back just after the hospital explosion when GH2.0 was just opening... stuff develops too fast for me on this show! The angst I think should have happened with Matt after he caused the big boom...
1. I

Paging Dr. Matt Hunter," came the call, and he extracted his tired face from his hands. "Dr. Matt Hunter."

It was time.

---

"The first cut is the deepest," Dr. Newman laughed, handing him the scalpel and winking. "Isn't that what they say, Dr. Hunter?"

He nodded and gripped the tool firmly between his fingers like a pencil, tracing in the air its planned route. There was a bleed somewhere and he would find it. He needed to make things right.

It was time.

---


	2. II

It was just the stress, he told himself as he rested his hands on his knees and made ready to stand. First Patrick, then Robin… then Patrick _and_ Robin. So much talk of Postpartum and crazy grandmothers that he'd forgotten to eat lunch. Yeah, it was just the stress.

There hadn't been that competition he'd wanted, either—the competition he was hoping to lose. It was set in stone after that: Patrick, who didn't care, and Matt, whose plan to pretend to care had backfired. The latter would be the first to operate in the new OR. Somehow, he hadn't appreciated the irony.

"Paging Dr. Matt Hunter. Dr. Matt Hunter."

He sighed and shook his head, trying to rid it of the hindsight that haunted him. There were so many what-ifs it was like he was drowning, and, until he felt an invisible hand tighten around his chest, he held his breath.

"Do you often ignore your pager, Dr. Hunter?" she asked as she rounded the corner and pretended to be interested in the vending machine's current selection. He looked so small, sitting on the floor like that, almost completely hidden in the space between the cushioned benches... so small, so sad. She wondered why she'd never noticed before, until he looked up at her and donned one of those award-winning smiles...the kind that can get you out of any situation.

"Not often, no," he replied. "But, if you hadn't noticed, Nurse Webber, I'm having a nervous breakdown, so if you wouldn't mind…"

"Hungry?" she asked, ignoring his barely veiled request for her to beat it. There was a dull thud and she bent to retrieve her snack. "I have an extra dollar."

He shook his head silently and turned his face away.

"Do you want to know what happened after you left?"

Again, he shook his head.

"It's okay that you were scared, Dr. Hunter," she said, kneeling in front of him and handing him her Snickers.

He closed his eyes and willed himself to wake up. It was all just a dream, he told himself.

It had to be.

---

"May I ask why you're here, Dr. Newman?" he sighed as he washed his hands, counting quietly to himself. Thirty seconds. Sixty seconds. Seventy-eight.

"Just to observe, Mattycakes," he laughed, only slightly alarmed by his companion's defensiveness. "They say you're the resident with the most potential, you know."

"Oh, yeah?" He had to laugh at that one. Ninety three. Two dead in the OR. Ninety four. An entire hospital full of casualties. Ninety seven. No lawsuit, though. "What else did they say?"

"Well, they didn't say that you spend three hours washing your hands before surgery," Dr. Newman joked, though there was an air of concern about him that unsettled his companion. "Don't be nervous, kid. The hospital's not going to explode.

Matt looked down at his hands in the sink and shook his head. The idiot was right. Most hospitals _never_ explode. It wasn't going to happen twice in a year. He wrung his hands one last time, then shut the water off with his elbow, and slipped into his gloves.

"Ready?" Dr. Newman asked, his eyebrows raised.

Matt nodded.

It was time.

---

"It's okay that you were scared, Dr. Hunter," she repeated, withdrawing the candy bar and laying a hand on his shoulder instead. "I was scared, too."

He opened his eyes.

"You don't believe me," Elizabeth laughed. "But I'll tell you, I was just as scared when Dr. Newman was doing the procedure as I was when you started to freak out."

"I don't know why I can't just be like that policeman in Die Hard," he murmured, shrugging off her hand and scooting out of her reach. He was such a child. "I mean, I can _do_ rounds. I can tell you your arm's broken or…or give your kid a shot, but _why_ do I have to do surgery?"

"Because you're a _surgeon_," she suggested, and she might have been mocking him just a little bit. He deserved it, anyway. He was being ridiculous. "That's what they're paying you for, you know. And Dr. Newman wasn't exaggerating. You really are the most talented resident I've seen come through GH."

"With all due respect, _Nurse _Webber," he replied, and he couldn't look at her when he spoke. "You're not a real doctor."

She couldn't believe it!

"Well, with all due _respect_, Dr. Hunter, _you_ are an ass."

She rolled her eyes and stood up to leave, wondering angrily to herself why she'd even bothered. From the moment he'd stepped into the building almost a year ago, she'd been counting down the days until his fellowship would end. There were times, she'd admit, when his antics made her smile a little, but she'd never stopped counting…

…until he flung himself forward onto his knees, grabbed her arm, and held her there.

His hands were icy cold.

---


	3. III

His hands were icy cold, and they began to shake as the scalpel broke through the patient's skin. He withdrew the tool and took a step backwards. He couldn't breathe. It was happening again.

"Dr. Hunter?"

The room began to spin and all he could hear was the steadily increasing rhythm of his heartbeat. He closed his eyes and reached out to steady himself, but his hand found only air and he would have fallen if it weren't for Dr. Newman, who caught his arm and took the scalpel from him.

"Matt? Hey… hey…"

"Oh, my God!"

"Someone page Dr. Drake… _now_!"

The mention of his brother's name came to him through visions of his team once more wilting away from the operating table. His eyes snapped open and he looked at everyone's worried faces in horror. What had he done?

"I'm fine," he insisted breathlessly, wriggling out of Dr. Newman's grip and heading unsteadily for the door. "I'm _fine_."

---

"You're not fine," she told him and reclaimed her arm. She didn't understand what was so awful about telling Patrick what had happened. "He should know his brother nearly fainted and botched another surgery."

"But I didn't," he begged, pushing himself up on still shaking legs. "See? I'm fine."

"Yeah, right," she scoffed, gently nudging his shoulder. He instantly lost his balance and fell onto the seat behind him. "Now, stay there, will you?"

"Yes, _m'am_," he chuckled, saluting weakly. "I never knew you to be so domineering, Nurse Webber. Now, I wonder how that worked out with Jason Morgan. He's the town goody-but-baddie, right? Seems like everyone's got one of those nowadays. He can go around shooting people all over the place, but they're _bad_ people, aren't they? Nevermind that _someone_ loves them. If Jason Morgan kills them, they've gotta be—"

The slap she laid to his cheek echoed down the empty hallway. Her hands were shaking with rage and she had half a mind to do it again when he opened his mouth to speak, but for some reason, it felt like she'd just slapped her child, and she could already feel the guilty tears budding.

She sat down next to him and looked away.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, and even if he didn't mean it, her heart broke even more when she heard him sniff and she knew that he was trying not to cry. "You _can't_ tell Patrick. Not today. Not after what they _said_ to each other."

"How long have you been putting this off, Dr. Hunter?" she asked. It felt strange, somehow, to call him doctor when he was holding her hand—the hand that had so recently beat him—and twisting her Claddagh ring like Cameron always did as she was explaining to him why he'd gone to time-out. "How long has this been going on?"

"That's what I asked my mom when I found a check from Noah Drake in the mail," he laughed, releasing her hand so that he could wipe his eyes on the sleeve of his scrubs. "And do you know what she used to say after that? Every time we got a check in the mail, she'd show it to me and say, 'See how much money your father makes?' _Every_ time. 'See how much money…?' And how long had it been going on is all I wanted to know."

"It's all _I_ want to know," she said quietly. "How long have you been hiding this."

"She didn't know," he sighed. "It started at conception, she guessed. The moment he found out. He was a _good_ man for that, she said. That's always when it starts, I guess…. when you find out something isn't right. I never knew until today that there would be… _complications_."

"He lived, you know," she told him, putting her hands on both his cheeks and forcing him to look at her. "_We_ lived. So, you can stop pouting, you know. You're not so important that everything is your fault. You arrogant ass."

"What do you want from me?" he asked, and she flushed as he studied her face with his intelligent brown eyes. She didn't remove her hands.

What he saw in front of him was confusing. It was the nurse he'd been trying to bag since he came, since Maxie first denied him her _sacred_ body. She had brown hair, but she'd had it trimmed and highlighted recently; he noticed. It looked good. Her eyes were green like the sea with little flecks of gold that he _hadn't_ noticed before. They were beautiful, but, as he stared, he suddenly had the sensation that he would drown in her gaze if no one pulled him back.

Something wasn't right.

That's when it started.

---

Something wasn't right, they all agreed on that as Dr. Newman finished the final stitch. Talented young surgeons didn't just pick up and leave in the middle of an operation and let the attending take the all glory. Especially not young surgeons as bullheaded and competitive as Matt Hunter.

"I think we should tell Drake Jr.," Epiphany shared, looking around to gather consensus on the decision.

"Don't you think he's got enough to worry about, Piph?" Elizabeth asked, and the others couldn't tell which brother she meant. "I mean…"

"I agree with Nurse Johnson," Dr. Newman added, as he was never one to miss an opportunity to gossip with the gals. "Give him something to worry about that isn't Dr. Scorpio and maybe they'll get the time apart they need."

"I wouldn't wish Patrick on anyone right now," Elizabeth reminded them as she began to collect the various tools. "And I wouldn't wish another problem on Patrick, either, or he's going to fall apart."

"_I'll_ say…"

"Well, he's going to find out anyway," Newman sighed, clapping his gloved hands together and proudly examining his job-well-done. "Matt signed into this surgery, and now I'm signing out. I say it's better to tell him now."

"I'll call him," Epiphany volunteered. "Nurse Webber will just sugar coat the whole thing. He needs it plain and simple."

"Just wait until I find Dr. Hunter," Elizabeth said quickly, grabbing Epiphany as she started for the phone. She shrunk back and blushed under their sudden scrutiny. "I just think… I just think he should know… you know?"

Something wasn't right, alright, and that's when it happened.


End file.
